


What's Worse -- An Argument or a Full Bladder?

by milkyuu



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Desperation, Gen, Humiliation, Masturbation, Omorashi, Wetting, crossposted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14677260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyuu/pseuds/milkyuu
Summary: Dark's been holding back the need to pee for a while now. Too bad a disagreement with Wilford causes him to let go early, resulting in some.../interesting/ conclusions.





	What's Worse -- An Argument or a Full Bladder?

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick warning, this fic contains pee desperation, omorashi/wetting, humilation, and msturbation. if this isn't your cup of tea, feel free to turn back now. ♡
> 
> an old tumblr request from last november :0 i love writing humilation so much, especially with big bad brooding characters like darkidoo!! hope ya enjoy!!

The meeting room is filled with the egos as they continue to argue over the newest project to take over Mark's channel -- Markiplier TV. Some saw it as an amazing and fool proof plan to help tarnish Mark's reputation and gain control. Others saw it as yet another waste of time and resources. 

Take a wild guess at which side Dark was on. 

It didn't change the fact he's had to relieve himself for nearing an hour and a half now. Not daring to leave the meeting room, the last time he did -- he had returned to an all out physical fight between Wilford and Ed Edgar. One that required many many many long visits to Dr. Iplier to heal them both. 

Dark had been subtle about his pressing and desperate need. Keeping his thighs close together. Sneaking a hand in between his legs to hold himself when needed (or when Googleplier and The Host weren't looking). Dark could practically /feel/ his bladder bulging against his suit. 

The need growing even more as he endured the arguing. The idiots not backing down from their arguments. 

"Enough!" Wilford yells, hitting his fist against the oak table. Angry and frustrated -- why wouldn't Dark and half of the others see how amazing the project was? How easy it'd be, how useful it would be! 

"Don't be an idiot, Wil." Dark groans from the other end of the table. Why did he have to be stuck with a murderous dumbass for a leader? Why couldn't Wilford just /end the damn meeting or call a break?/

"Excuse me? You got something to say, Dark?"

"You. Heard. Me." Dark growls. Blue and red glitching around his body. 

Oh. 

So he wants to play like /that/. Throwing another tantrum like a child because he can't get his way. Or maybe jealous he could never organize what he did. 

Typical Dark. 

"Actually, no, I didn't. Your VHS static background bullshit is louder than ever. Learn to control it and /maybe/ I can understand you for fuckin' once." Wilford retorts. A smirk on his face as he watches Dark slowly come undone. Something he knew Dark hated to do, especially in front of their fellow egos. The same egos that looked up to them. 

What can he say? It was fun. 

"Maybe you should learn to tell the difference between a good idea and a horrid idea." Dark replies, anger rising in him quickly, as it always did. "Drop the subject and move onto whatever is next on the agenda for today. 

"No."

"Wil. Move on with whatever else is in the agenda for today--"

"And I said no." He smiles, "actually, lets /stay/ on this topic! Now, who signed up for what show?"

No one dared to speak. Bim looking over at Dr. Iplier. The Host resting his head in his hands. Even Google whirled on stand by as the tension grew. 

And Dark still shuffled in his seat. Ever so discreetly.

"Nobody wants to talk about your moronic idea because we all know it's going to fail. We all know it's going to fail like the other plans you had." Dark growls again, "call a break so we can regroup and figure out a new plan by me--"

"Shut the fuck up, Dark." Wilford spits out, "you think you're really this great? You think you're the best out of all of us? You're not -- you're just as stuck and lost here as the rest of us--"

"Wil. Chose your next words carefully." 

"Oh, is that a warning? Did little old me strike a nerve in you? Or are you just trying to keep up the tough evil front? I know what you're really like,"

Wilford steps away from the front of the meeting room. All eyes on him as he approaches Dark. Pulling him from the table -- Dark using each bit of willpower he has to not hopelessly wet himself. No, not here. And especially not in front of Wilford. 

"I know your fears. Your secrets. Your weaknesses. You may think you're the manipulative cunning bastard here but I'm not as dumb as I look." Wilford smiles. 

"Get away from me." Dark growls out again. Trying to scoot back into the table. All the egos staring him down. Waiting a response. 

"No. Not until you admit my idea is a good one. Not until you greenlight it and let me fuckin' work." 

"Never." He groans. "Never in my life would I go along with such a moronic idea. You're a murder. You're an idiot. You're some nobody who spews lies and you know it," he huffs, his bladder screaming at him to go, "hardworking? Smart? Amazing? What, are you describing everything you can't be?"

Wilford lifted his hand without warning and slapped Dark. No longer caring for words. Dark's entire head moving with the slap. The echo of it surrounding the room. Some egos gasping, others looking away, some even looking at Wilford in horror.

"You...you fucking lunatic! You imbecile!" Dark outright screams, standing from his seat. Fists clenched and ready to pounce, "do you have any idea what I am?! I am created from the darkest arts and most ancient rituals your mere mortal brain can never under-fucking-stand! I am the evil of manipulation and greed smashed together! I am an enteral fucking flame and you, you freak, do not EVER lay your hands on me--"

Dark closes his eyes tightly as it happens. The floodgates opening as he struggled to keep balance. It moved so fast, emotions getting in the way of his concentration. Anger and pain distracting him from his bladder's pleas for relief. The warm urine rushed down his legs. Soaking his grey suit a dark, nearly black, color. Obvious to the others what was happening. The hissing combined with the pitter pattering of the urine -- forming a sizable puddle under his and Wilford's feet -- made Dark nearly cry. 

His worst fear coming true: coming undone and becoming vulnerable. 

He sobs as the stream dies down. Wet warmth hugging his crotch and legs. Socks, pants, and underwear completely soaked. 

Some egos look away in respect. Others sit open mouth and surprised. 

Oh, but not Wilford. Definitely not Wilford.

"Did...did you just piss yourself? Oh...ha...ha ha ha ha!" Wilford doubles over laughing. Crying with laughter and pointing like a schoolboy. Cheeks and face glowing red as he laughed harder, "oh! Oh my god, he's crying!"

The egos who had looked away looked back to see. Indeed, Dark sniffled and teared up. No. No way this was happening. No way this was real--

"What's a matter? What happened to being edgy and evil?" Wilford laughed, moving Dark so he faced the others. Soaked pants and teary expression exposed to them. "What happened to being an eternal flame, Darkidoo? Did you piss that out--"

"Let m-me go." He sniffled.

"Nah." Wilford replied, holding Dark's arms back in a tight grip. "See what happens when you fuck with good old Warfstache? Does anyone else want to be a pathetic asshole and wet their pants like a child?"

No one dared to speak.

"It's ironic you had a widdle accident, Darkidoo. I was just thinking about how much of a /child/ you are. How you throw tantrums and cry when you don't get your way." 

No. 

Dark shuffled as Wilford pulled his hair more. All of it mixing together -- the shame. The humiliation. The degrading remarks. Even the warmth from his own urine began to excite him. 

Becoming shamefully hard in his suit. 

"Oh. You're a pervert too, aren't you? Gross -- have you no shame, Dark? Getting your dick hard not only in front of everyone but in your own piss soaked pants?" Wilford scoffed, "you call me a freak yet you're worse than I ever could be."

"Wil--"

"Shut up!" He screams. "Shut the fuck up for once and listen to me! I'll let you go and jerk off in peace or clean up. But only when you give me the okay on my project. If not, you can stay standing while I talk to the others about their roles in the shows. All while you show them your hard dick in your wet pants."

Dark nods, grabbing the clipboard from Wilford's hands and signing off on the project. Sobs and whimpers rattling out of him as he was humiliated. Mercilessly. 

"Good! Glad you see things my way, piss baby!" Wilford laughed, "run along and don't cause another puddle. Come back here when you're done and clean up your mess, got it?"

In the tiniest voice he could muster, Dark nodded, "...okay."

"Good boy. Now, Bim? You said you wanted to do the gameshow? How about..."

Dark didn't stick around to hear anymore. Running out of the room and into the open hallway. Panting and sobbing as he awkwardly walked towards his private office. Wondering how the egos see him now. Wondering how Wilford could be so cruel. Wondering if it's possible to even get over the humiliation he endured. 

And all for a stupid fucking TV channel.

///

"So! Piss baby, think of what you want to contribute to the channel? I think you'd fit right in with Doc's show. Maybe you can be the main focus for his episode on adult incontinence and bladder issues!" Wilford laughed in the hallway to Dark's closed door. 

"Go away," Dark panted. Now in new pants (actually -- sweatpants and cheap underwear, thanks to Dr. Iplier running out to help him gather new clothes) around his thighs and jerking off in his office chair. 

"Nah. You looked so pathetic in your wet pants and puddle. Like some scared kid -- even Google and Ed agreed with me."

Oh. 

That brought him closer to his orgasm. Jerking himself faster as he thought about the meeting room discussing him after he left. The laughter they shared. The degrading names. The obnoxious comments.

A heat filled his body as he approached it. So close -- so close.

"Oh well, I'll leave you alone to cry or something. Enjoy dry cleaning your suit. And enjoy being known as the office piss baby for a while now. Bye bye!" Wilford called out. Just as Dark came. White cum shooting out to land in his hand and down his cock. Throbbing in time with his beating heart. 

And there he say after cleaning up. Ashamed. Humiliated, and more aroused than he had ever been before. A blush creeping on his face as he returned to work, ignoring the feelings.

Hopefully, they'll pass in time.


End file.
